Two Eyes Cenote fifty-ninth

She’d never shared a painting before and there was a small sense of anxiety in opening it to another’s mark. But as each exerts themself upon the wall, the silence is easy and the work is made lovelier by converging strokes.

“I would not leave my position here during that time,” the fellahin consents in the air between them where hung the heavy implications of what was to follow in the warmer months. She sets down her paw, staring intently at the gold paint.

“Yes; alone.”